Before I Go
by LM Simpson
Summary: ONESHOT Donald/Daisy The night before Donald goes on an adventure is one Daisy dreads. Contains lime


**Title: **Before I Go

**Author: **LM Simpson (Kady the Red Panda)

**Pairing(s): **Donald/Daisy

**Rating: **M

**Warning(s): **Implicit duck sex, the rape of your childhood…

**Disclaimer: **Disney owns their little duckies. Dammit.

**Other tidbits: **Comic based, if Donald's coming along with Uncle Scrooge's adventures. Just a thought as I am on bed rest after back surgery.

0000

Daisy Duck's life is a mundane one, she would like to believe. There's her secretary job from nine to five Mondays to Fridays, visits with the nieces and to Grandma Duck's on the weekends, sporadic nightly outings throughout the month.

But in her heart, deep down away from the spunky confidence she is famous for; Daisy knows that life with Donald Duck and his relatives would ensure her life would not a normal one. Huey, Dewey, and Louie's parents dumped them at Donald's after they sent their father to the hospital. Donald himself had a temper that could scare the devil himself. And Uncle Scrooge was the world's richest duck and hellbent on accumulating more riches.

Daisy hates the trips. She hates the idea, the mere concept, of Donald leaving her, even if it's for an expedition to Latin America. As much as she flirts with Gladstone she would never seriously date or get intimate with him. Donald is the one for her. She loves that duck, temper and all, and she didn't care how people thought she was weird for it.

It is the eve of yet another one of Uncle Scrooge's expeditions. It is ten in the evening. The boys leave on a plane bound for Tierra del Fuego at four in the morning. Daisy knows she'll be up at that time, staring at the clock at the nightstand, cursing Uncle Scrooge for taking Donald to yet another dangerous place. What if he was maimed, or worse, killed, during an expedition? That was a real scenario.

She knows that maybe she shouldn't be this obsessive with a man. But in her heart, deep down away from the spunky confidence she is famous for; Daisy loves Donald more than she loves herself. Most of her best moments are with Donald. Donald makes her happy. Donald makes her confident. Donald is so in love with her that it reassures her that she will always be loved. Without Donald, there is no Daisy, or at least the Daisy everyone knows. Simple as that. If she could keep Donald to herself, selfish as that was, she would run away and make him hers and only hers forever.

Daisy continues fantasizing of life with Donald, and _just_ Donald, when someone knocks. He has come.

Donald brings kisses and white daisies with him. She thanks him before she enters the kitchen, boyfriend in tow, and places them in a water filled drinking glass as a temporary vase.

They stay in the kitchen, sit at the table next to each other, and chit chat. Daisy asks just what lured Uncle Scrooge to Tierra del Fuego. Donald replies he has no idea himself, but he thinks he heard something about parakeets. Daisy asks if he will see his friends, the parrot and the rooster. Donald replies no, no he won't. His head droops. She feels guilty for making him down. Daisy asks if he'll miss her. Donald replies that that was a stupid question to ask, because he most certainly would. Daisy smiles, then grasps and kisses him on the kisser. Donald returns the gesture.

They continue kissing. Donald's hands explore familiar territory and eventually discover Daisy's pink blouse. He knows and she knows how this is going to go and they love it. Daisy's high heels fly across the room and clack against the wall. Soon a blouse and sailor top accompany it nearby.

The ducks make love right there on the kitchen floor. Their lovemaking is quick and raw, just how they like it. And it's a damn good thing that they like it, since this will be their last good fuck, let alone a fuck at all, for awhile, if ever, they fear. They cry out almost simultaneously, Donald right before Daisy, and Donald collapses right onto his girlfriend and inhales and exhales deeply.

They rest for momentarily, lingering in each other's sweat, before getting up at eleven in the evening. Donald worries about the mess. Daisy says she'll just clean it up before the nieces come tomorrow afternoon. Donald yawns and asks if he can sleep in her bed. Daisy replies that he is always free in her bed. They go upstairs, say I love you and kiss each other good night, then make love for a second, even better, time in Daisy's bed, and sleep entangled in each other. Daisy could not ask for more. She's in heaven.

…

Daisy wakes up at three thirty in the morning. She hears the shower running across the hall. Donald is no longer in her arms, let alone her bed. She curses to herself. Couldn't she have died right before she fell asleep?

The shower turns off. At a quarter to four she hears Donald quacking about being late to the airport. She hears running towards her bedroom. The door creaks open right when she closes her eyes and pretends to still be asleep. She breathes calmly as she feels Donald gently rubbing a hand over her back, detects Donald's kisses on her cheek.

Daisy ignores the sounds of Donald running down the stairs and slamming the door on his way out. She wants his final actions to linger for as long as possible. She knows that when she finally wakes up, she'll fall apart once again.


End file.
